


servants and kings

by stelleappese



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Angst, M/M, that's pretty much it I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleappese/pseuds/stelleappese
Summary: Meyer is there for Charlie, after they discover he was set up by A.R.&Masseria.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set during/after the last episode of season 3. I've literally watched the entire show in five days, and this is my first attempt at writing BWE fanfic, so I apologize in advance if I fucked up.
> 
> Title from [this, because of reasons.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIy7b6UAUss)

The fact Charlie follows him so meekly, so quietly, breaks Meyer's heart. He flops on the backseat of the cab as if he's been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for way longer than he's capable of, and his whole being has given out. Seeing Charlie so deeply buried into himself makes Meyer feel utterly powerless. He doesn't know how to reach out and drag him out, so he just rests his hand on top of Charlie's and doesn't say a word.

It's such a strange thing, Meyer thinks, how quickly the anger boiling in the pit of his stomach faded, right the second Charlie stopped struggling to get to A.R. and looked at him.

It's only once they get to Charlie's suite that something like electricity starts running through Charlie's veins, a restlessness that makes him pace, grab a glass and a bottle of whiskey, put them both back, take off his jacket and loosen his tie. He stops, facing in Meyer's direction but not looking at him, a hand raised as if to anticipate him speaking. But the words don't come. Charlie lets his arm fall along his side, he squeezes his eyes for a second, then slams his fist against the wall once, twice, before Meyer can cross the room and grab him.  
“Stop it, Charlie!” he says, fingers clenched around his wrist.  
“Jesus fucking _Christ_!” roars Charlie, trying to get away. “Goddamned piece of shit. Fucking worthless _coward_...” he says.  
“ _Stop_!” orders Meyer, again, and it's like Charlie crumples up, because all of a sudden they're on the floor, Meyer still holding on to Charlie's wrist, Charlie's fingers clutching at Meyer's jacket.  
“It's all right,” says Meyer, soothingly, bringing his free hand to the back of Charlie's neck, “It's all right...”  
“I'm always fucking everything up.” Charlie whispers, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence.  
“You can hardly blame yourself for losing against cheaters, Charlie.” says Meyer. Charlie breathes in deeply, he closes his eyes and presses his face against Meyer's shoulder.

It takes a while before Charlie uncurls himself from around Meyer. He sniffles, rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. He looks as if someone thoroughly carved him up, left a gaping hole inside him.  
“What A.R. said... will you do it?” he asks, sitting on an arm-chair as Meyer cleans up his bloody knuckles.  
“What do you think I should do?” asks Meyer, even though he's decided what to do the moment the words left A.R.'s mouth.  
Charlie doesn't answer immediately. He nods to himself, just once, before saying: “Do it.”  
“You will talk with Masseria.” Meyer says, encouragingly.  
“Ask him to take me back.” Charlie whispers. Meyer lets go of his hand, puts a knee on the arm-chair, a hand on Charlie's shoulder. He straddles him, sits back on Charlie's lap.  
“Make it look like you're begging for it. Tell him a thing or two about A.R..” Charlie nods, hands molding to Meyer's waist as Meyer leans in and presses his forehead to Charlie's. “We will make them think this was enough to break us.”  
“Yes,” says Charlie, “Will be real professional. Pretend we got nothing to say to each other, after this.”  
“Just business.” suggests Meyer.  
“Just business,” agrees Charlie, nose brushing against Meyer's.  
“We will need to be patient, yes? It will be worth it, Charlie.”  
“I know,” murmurs Charlie. He tilts his head, his lower lip dragging against Meyer's.  
“They think they are immortal. They think they can't be outdone.”   
“Meyer...”  
“If they could see you the way I see you, Charlie, they wouldn't be so sure of themselves.” says Meyer, with a smile, hands moving to the sides of Charlie's neck. “Our time will come.”  
Charlie's lips press against Meyer's smile, more a question than a demand. Meyer kisses him back.

 


End file.
